Asclepius
by Tearsheet
Summary: Hermione is forced to choose between what is right, and what is easy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, I've done a little bit of a rewrite on this story. I have to apologize for my absence these past months, but real life has a funny way of getting in the way of things. So, if you've been following the story, you may want to re-read the first 2 chapters because I've edited a bit. If anyone is still reading this, I thank you for your patience! **

The day had dawned cold and grey, the clouds spitting forth random showers with each passing hour. Mud, thick and oozy, washed down and between the cobbles of the old street, and into the river.

At the end of the road sat a rather sad looking two-up two-down, the curtains drawn over every window, save the one next to the door. In _that_ window sat a solemn man with dark eyes and a poisonous expression.

Had anyone been inside the house, they would have heard his breath rasping and catching in his throat.

The man reached up and began scratching at his neck which was covered in thick, ropey scars. They always itched in inclement weather, and the day had been so terrible that he had been forced to change from his usual high necked robes, into one of the old, faded, black t-shirts hanging from the wardrobe in his childhood bedroom.

The pocket-watch beside him ticked relentlessly and with each little tick his annoyance grew.

Hermione was late, by nearly five minutes. She was _never_late. He angrily snapped the timepiece shut and pushed himself out of his chair with a low groan. His joints were prone to stiffness. He shuffled to the kitchen to make tea.

He set the water to boil, and reached up into the cupboard for the bitter chocolate biscuits he favoured. If she couldn't be bothered to show up on time, he wouldn't sit there and wait like some kind of watchdog. It was bad enough he'd gotten in the habit in the first place.

Minutes passed, and just as he was straining the leaves, the knock on the door came. His protective wards ensured that only those with his specific permission could gain entry without undergoing his security checks, so he waved his wand, opening the front door for her.

He heard her removing her shoes, and hanging up her robes. She was stalling. She never took her boots off. He flipped the pocket-watch open once more and scowled. She was 17 minutes late.

Hermione padded into the kitchen, but he chose to keep his back to her.

'Professor?' she inquired softly.

'I'm no longer a teacher,' he replied stiffly. 'You're late.'

'I know I am,' she pulled out a chair and sat, resting her chin on her hand. 'It was Ron again.'

'Ah,' his lip curled. 'What has Weasley done this time?'

'Nothing, really. He just…doesn't approve. Of this, I mean.'

'Perhaps you should cease visiting,' he said waspishly, setting the hot tea in front of her, two sugars no milk.

'No,' she shook her head, blowing gently on the tea. 'It's not you, it's more that I'm in the company of any man that's not…well, that's not him. Or Harry,' she added.

'Interesting,' he muttered, taking a sip of his own drink.

'It really isn't.'

He arched his eyebrow at her over the teacup. Much to his chagrin, she arched one right back. Good Merlin, he really was losing his touch. He looked down at the swirling liquid in his chipped mug, ignoring her gaze.

They sat companionably for some minutes, before she cleared her throat gently.

'How have you been feeling?' she said 'Physically, I mean.'

'There is…a slight difference, from the last time,' he met her gaze levelly. 'But that was to be expected.'

'When you mention a difference…' she stared searchingly. 'Do you mean for the better? Or worse?'

His chest ached at her hopeful expression. Lying crossed his mind, but he couldn't bear it.

'Worse,' was the stiff reply, and that was all she needed to hear, as her lip began trembling.

'Do _not_ cry, Miss Granger,' he snapped.

'Stop that,' she moaned, dropping her head in her hands. 'I thought for sure this last batch had done it. My gods, Severus, how much more can you handle?'

He tried not to acknowledge the small amount of pleasure hearing his name fall from her lips brought him, but knew he was failing miserably.

"I've no idea,' he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.'My body hasn't recovered fully, and I'm beginning to believe it might not heal completely.'

'But you'll live in such pain,' she whispered. 'And if the restoratives haven't been working…'

'It is unpleasant,' he said 'but I've lived in discomfort for years. Longer than you've been alive, in fact.'

'That doesn't make it right!' she leaned forward, the mess she called hair frizzing in every direction.

'I'm not a house elf, Granger,' he snarled. 'I'm not another cause. I'm your medical experiment, which is bad enough.'

'You consented to it!'

'Because I had no other options. No one else would have put this much time and effort in, I'll concede that point, but we both know you asked the Healers for me specifically. I'm just another project.'

Her eyes were narrowed now, and he knew he was in for it.

'Has it ever occurred to you I picked this case because I care for your well-being? You saved my life numerous times over the years. The least I could do was attempt to return the favour!'

'Well, it's been three years Granger. Three years of bi-weekly meetings, three years of drinking potion after potion, and I'm bloody tired of it. We haven't seen improvement for months, and we both know it. I'm surprised you still come to these little chats anymore. You should have given up by now.'

'I couldn't,' she looked down at the table. 'I couldn't do that to you.'

'It's no matter,' he closed his eyes. 'I'm accustomed to it.'

The silence that settled over them was heavy. A thousand things to say to her, to tell her, rose in his throat and were swallowed back down.

He heard a sniffle, and watched as a tear dripped off the end of her nose and into her tea.

'Go home, Granger,' he said. 'Go home, and don't come back. I don't want to see you wasting your time here. Go spend this time with your fiancé,' he muttered, trying to hold back the venom he longed to spit at the word.

She said nothing, merely walked her mug to the sink and dropped it in. He watched as she pulled her boots on, shrugged into her cloak, and opened the door.

'Goodbye, Severus,' whispered Hermione quietly.

And then she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And here's the edited chapter 2 for you all.**

When they'd found him, clinging to life, and dragged him back up to the hospital wing, he was told Granger had sat with him every day. That, he thought, was where it had all began. There was something to be said about a woman who willingly spent hours upon hours at the bedside of a man who had tortured her and her friends throughout their adolescence.

And she _must _have truly wanted to be there, her told himself. Those first days, where he'd been told his neck would randomly gush blood or ooze pus had to have been absolutely horrific. Not to mention the frequent seizures, which more often than not resulted in him pissing himself, or worse, shitting.

30 days he'd been asleep, in a medically induced coma, so his body could fight the effects of the venom. Dreams and hallucinations were all he had of the month he'd lost.

But there were some things…little things, tidbits, that Snape was certain he hadn't dreamed. Things like the scent of cranberries drenched in sunlight, undertones of freshly baked bread with cinnamon laced in. He'd heard a soft voice reading something to him; the paper, or perhaps an academic journal.

So when he woke up, and a few weeks had passed, when she approached him, still smelling like heaven and with such a hopeful look in her eye, he'd ignored all common sense, and accepted her offer.

She was apprenticing with Healer Pye at St. Mungo's, to become a Medicinal Brewer, she told him. A requirement of the apprenticeship was the invention of a new potion. She'd wanted to work with him. The snake's venom had triggered a disastrous reaction within his body, the years of Cruciatus Damage suddenly inflamed and new again, and who better to attempt a cure than the insufferable little know it all herself?

Three years, hundreds of potions and elixirs taken, and he was better, but not healed. She'd earned her license in brewing, but she'd stayed with him anyway.

And over those years, meetings with her had morphed from purely medical questions and assessments, into companionably sitting in his kitchen, drinking tea. And with each meeting, feelings for her had risen from the shattered depths of his soul, and twisted themselves around his heart.

It was the great tragedy of his life, he thought, that the only women he'd ever fallen for were both destined for another man.

But sometimes, when she smiled at him over her teacup, or lightly patted his arm, he would pretend she felt the same way towards him. And as he watched her walking down the street, her coat up around her ears, his chest ached. But he had to make her leave. He couldn't stand another day spent so close, yet so far from her. Her wedding was soon anyhow, and he had no desire to bear witness to the brightest woman he'd ever known marrying a stupid arse like Ronald Weasley

Ignoring the headache building behind his temples, he Summoned a bottle of Firewhiskey and sank back into one of the old, threadbare chairs in his front room.

* * *

Walking down the street, hot tears on her cheeks and mucus dripping from her nose, Hermione tried to ignore intrusive thoughts about Severus. His body took most of his energy from him, and she understood where his frustration came from, but to tell her not to return? After they'd built up what she thought of as a friendship?

Something wasn't right with it, but she didn't want to think about that. She was having enough trouble with the guilt coursing her way through her body. Part of her was…well, attracted to him. She'd accepted that months ago, thinking it a passing fancy, but it had reached a point where she had seriously considered breaking things off with Ron.

But that wouldn't be necessary anymore, she thought. Not when Snape had just kicked her out of his life.

The rain falling onto the back of her neck was freezing, and the mud under her feet was squelching unpleasantly. Tired and out of sorts over what had transpired with Snape, she jogged to the Apparation point, and popped away with a quiet crack.

Landing steadily in the middle of her flat, she ripped her hat off of her head and threw it down. Gooseflesh rose on her arms as she slipped her cloak off, and after feeding Crooks, she stepped into her bathroom, ready to soak in the tub.

She drew the bath, shivering all the while. A quick glance in the mirror and she grimaced. Her nose was red, her lips chapped, and her eyes were puffy, so puffy she was surprised she could see out of them. Merlin, she was an ugly crier.

The water was scalding hot, but she sank down anyway, ignoring her skin boiling under the water. It had been a long day, an awful day if she was honest with herself, and if Ron dropped by later, it was going to get much worse.

Torn and stressed, she turned to the only things in her life she could rely on – written word.

Summoning the issue of Witch Weekly she'd ordered two weeks ago, because Harry was on the cover and it had made Severus snort tea out of his nose, she flipped through the pages, hoping for some kind of advice.

Settling in for a long haul, she twisted her hair off of her neck, and Summoned a glass, and a bottle of elf made wine.

Four hours and three changed outfits later, she opened the door for Ron, wearing plain black robes, and a small amount of makeup.

'Hello, love,' he leaned in and planted a kiss on her left cheek, his breath sweet and clean.

'How was your day?' she took his cloak and threw it over the back of the couch, ignoring Crookshanks angered mewling.

'Bloody awful,' he groaned, sinking into her reading chair. 'A new recruit botched a Tracking Spell, and set the training room on fire. I still don't know how.'

'Merlin's pants,' Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I'm sure Harry was ecstatic.'

'Yeah, he wasn't pleased.'

Silence descended, painfully awkward. She smoothed her robes down, and cleared her throat.

'Look, Ron, we need to talk –'

'About the wedding? I know. Mum's organising everything. And I know the date was set for March, but d'you think we could move it up? I'd like to be married by January.'

'Why…why January?' she stammered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

'Well…' he grinned sheepishly. 'I'm being sent to France, as an international liaison. And I'd like to be able to bring my wife.'

Her heart caught in her throat. Gods, he looked so hopeful…and how could she break Ron's heart? How could she have ever thought he wasn't right for her? How could she even have considered ending things?

She settled into the sofa, resolved. She could marry Ron. They could have a life, a nice, safe life and he wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't send her away or sneer at her. He would be an excellent husband, she told herself.

There was a nagging little voice that told her she was lying to herself, but she lied to herself again and said it would all be fine.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well this is super short, but I wanted to get something new up for those of you following the story. I think there's only one, maybe two, more to go, but thanks for sticking with me! (and if you missed the other notes, I did fix up chapters 1 and 2, so you may want to check those out again) Review if you're so inclined!**

She was covered head to toe in Impervious charms to keep the torrential downpour from ruining her look, but at this point, she didn't give a damn. She just wanted the whole thing to be over.

She'd insisted on a dress in an attempt to incorporate at least a little of the Muggle world, but had regrettably given Molly and Ginny free reign in choosing the design. She was swathed in taffeta and tulle, her lower half drowned in the most enormously full skirt she'd ever seen. Her hair was atrocious as well, all curled and piled on top of her head. It did wonderful things for her, but it was so bloody heavy her neck had gone stiff.

All in all, it was far from any wedding she'd ever dreamed of. Not that she'd been the type to think about weddings often. But still, it all felt wrong to her. She'd always thought she'd be married in a church, while the organist played Pachelbel's Canon and her Father's eyes welled up as he gave her away.

Actually, Arthur had offered to walk her down the aisle, but she'd declined. It felt wrong to allow him to do so when she still had a living, breathing father – even if said father didn't know she existed.

Within the tent, she heard music swell and the guest's silence. With a shaky breath, she drew the curtain aside and stepped in. It was warm, thankfully, but when she laid eyes on Ron, her stomach clenched. Sweat began beading along her hairline.

It looked as though half of the Wizarding world had been invited. There were flashbulbs going off all around her. She caught a glimpse of one reporter with a Quick Quotes Quill floating in front of him, and the Auror guard at the entrances.

The knots in her stomach tightened with each step. The room was stifling, her ears were buzzing, and when she finally reached Ron, she had to wipe the sweat from her palms off on her dress before she allowed him to take her hands. She was positive the whole place could hear her heartbeat.

Ron smiled brightly, oblivious to the absolute terror coursing through his soon to be wife's body. She forced a smile, and felt the toast she'd had that morning start to fight its way up from her stomach. She swallowed, hard, and that was when people began to realise there was something wrong.

Ron's smile faded. She caught sight of Harry, just behind Ron's left shoulder, with a confused look on his face. More sweat began pouring off of her in buckets, and she tried to rip her hands out of Ron's, but he held fast. It was all a mistake, all of it. Thinking she could make herself happy with a sham of a marriage.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't marry Ron; she couldn't love him because even with his face right in front of hers, all she could see was Snape.

'Hermione,' said Ron 'what are you playing at?'

'I'm… I'm not…I can't _breathe,_' said Hermione desperately 'I can't do this!'

And then with a twirl and a pop, she was gone.

* * *

As she walked down the familiar cobbled street her legs were still shaking from the outpouring of fear and adrenaline. The sweat on her body had dried, but the Impervious charms had worn off and she was now dragging an extra fifteen pounds of dress along with her. The rain was coming down hard, and Hermione decided she'd be lucky to make it to his doorstep without washing down the street.

Hopefully they wouldn't send Aurors after her. Knowing Harry, he'd probably assume she was Imperiused before he'd consider that she'd simply left Ron at the altar. Not that anyone would ever speak to her again after pulling the stunt she just had.

Despite her best efforts, the heels of her shoes kept getting caught up in the cobbles. So she pulled them off her feet, barely breaking stride, and unceremoniously tossed them into the river running parallel to the road. She continued her determined march, despite the fatigue that was beginning to run through her.

The enormity of her situation was crashing down around her by the time the old house came into view. She barely made it up to the door before she dropped to her knees. Tears were running down her face now, and her entire body shook with the strength of her sobs as she pounded desperately on the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Usual disclaimers apply.**

**And here's the next update! At this point, I'm thinking there's one chapter left, but it could turn into two. I really don't know, so I suppose I'll just keep you guessing. Thanks to all the new readers who reviewed/favorited, and please, continue doing so! Reviews make writing extremely satisfying. I respond to all reviews, so if you're reading as a guest, sign in or leave your email or I won't be able to answer you! Happy reading!**

**Oh, and one more thing before you finally get to the update, I'm looking for a beta, since I'm trying to get this uploaded to Ashwinder and I have a terrible need for a second pair of eyes. PM me if you're interested! **

He could feel the chill of the house seeping into his bones despite the flames roaring in the fireplace before him. He'd spent the past three days in the cellar, brewing Pepper Up and Headache Relief for St Mungo's, and it had tired him more than he'd care to admit.

In fact, he hadn't moved out of his damn chair since his shower that morning. The rain beating onto the roof had lulled him into a half sleep, so when the tranquil monotony of the storm was broken by knocking on his door, he flew out of the chair without a seconds hesitation, wand clutched in hand.

It wasn't Draco or Lucius, since they always Flooed. It could have been Minerva, but last he'd spoken to her, she was attending a wedding tonight. Perhaps his protective wards had fallen somehow, but he checked them weekly. He crept towards the door, ready for action.

Whoever was on the other side had a nasty Stunner coming their way.

After a few deep breaths, he threw the door open, spell on his lips and – Good _gods._

It was Granger.

Tears stained black from the cosmetics on her eyes were streaming down her face. Great, heaving sobs were wracking her body, which appeared to be swallowed up by a monstrosity of a dress. The hair, though soaking wet, still had a bit of a curl, and he felt a rather demented urge to laugh about it.

He scanned her over once more, and when he caught sight of the dress again – more specifically the _colour _of the dress – his blood ran cold. Minerva had told him she'd had a wedding to attend. And here was Granger, looking very much like a bride. Had something happened? Was that why she was here, sobbing on his doorstep?

'Do you need help?' he snapped. 'Has something happened?'

She looked up at him then, eyes brimming with tears and shook her head. 'Severus,' said Hermione, her voice soft.

'Why are you here, Granger?' he questioned stiffly.

'I left Ron..' she whispered 'I left him standing at the altar. I had to see you, I had to ask…' she broke off and covered her mouth with her hands as a sob bubbled up and out of her body.

His fear disappeared and instead, the ache that had been present in his chest since he'd sent her away filled suddenly, and he found himself dropping to his knees in front of her. The rain was pouring down and that which had already fallen was soaking into the knees of his trousers, but he didn't give a damn.

Against his better judgement, he reached out and brushed a tear off of her face with his thumb. He went to pull his hand back, but she grabbed it and held it against her cheek, which was warm and smooth under his palm. She sighed gently, and looked him in the eye.

'I was going to marry him,' she said, her voice a little stronger. 'But every time I looked at him all I could see was _you_. And I know you sent me away, and I know you probably want to hex me right now, but don't you see? I had to know, if there was even the most miniscule of chances you might…feel as I do…but, I'm so sorry, I should never have come,' she released his hand to cover her eyes. "I was stupid, so stupid…how could you ever love me?' she whimpered so softly it tore him in two.

'Foolish girl,' he muttered, reaching forward and pulling her hands off of her face and into his own 'How could I not?'

She opened and shut her mouth before letting out a small, somewhat hysterical giggle.

'I'd always envisioned you eviscerating me on the spot, not returning the sentiment,' Hermione smiled weakly. 'I think I like this way better.'

His mouth turned up slightly at the corners, and faded as she lifted her hand to his forehead and pulled a strand of his hair out of the way. Hermione swallowed thickly, and slowly moved her hand back into his hair, which was soft and surprisingly thick, though she supposed that was why it always looked so greasy.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was a little faster than normal. She was moving towards him when his eyes finally opened again, and the look in them stopped her in her tracks. Normally cold and distant, his eyes were just as black as always, but the look he gave her was all warmth and fire, a fierce gaze that was making her weak with the heat of it.

Hermione wasn't sure who closed the gap first, but once his mouth was on hers, she ceased caring. Severus's lips were warm against her own, and she opened her mouth slightly to allow him entry. His tongue slid against the roof of her mouth and she whimpered at the light brush. He tasted of tea and chocolate and a little mint, sharp and yet sweet somehow. His fingers knotted in her hair as he pulled her closer, his other hand tilting her chin up slightly.

They melded into each other, tongues grazing and sending shivers of desire through each of them as they met again and again, a dance older than time. A rush of pleasure flowed through her as he bit her bottom lip. She moaned into his mouth and he swallowed it with another flick of his tongue against hers.

When she finally tore her mouth away, they were both panting slightly. She watched as Severus stood, painfully slow. She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to pull him down to her again and take his pain away.

He stuck a hand out and she grabbed it, allowing him to pull her up. He tugged on her hand until she yielded and was held tight against his chest. Snape slammed the door shut with his foot and then brushed his lips over her forehead.

'Are you quite sure this is what you want, Granger?' he murmured into her hair.

'I think it's the only thing I'm sure of at this moment in time,' she replied quietly, leaning back to look him in the eye. 'That much I can tell you.'

He brushed his thumb over her mouth slowly, his gaze softening.

'Shouldn't you go back to Weasley? Clear some things up for him?'

'Are you trying to get rid of me?' she asked, half-joking.

He arched his eyebrow at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

'That's far from the case, my dear Miss Granger,' Snape said with a small smirk. 'But I'll feel much better taking you to bed knowing you've severed ties with Mr Weasley. I'd rather not wake one night and find that ginger menace pointing his wand at me.'

Hermione covered her mouth to silence the laughter threatening to escape. It was horrible, wanting to laugh at Ron when she'd just broken the man's heart, but Severus always had had the propensity to make her laugh at inappropriate things.

'I'll go back, then,' she said. 'To the Burrow, I mean. Sort everything out.'

'As you should,' said Snape quietly. 'And then?'

'I don't know,' she chewed on a fingernail.

'Come back here,' he said quickly. 'If you're so inclined, that is.'

Hermione smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 'I think I'll take you up on that offer,' she said over her shoulder as she opened the door once more.

'I'll be waiting,' he answered quietly. 'I'll be waiting.'


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: For those of you following the story, the rating has gone up because there is a (gasp!) lemon. It isn't super graphic, but if you aren't at an appropriate age to be reading such things, I'd skip some of the middle of the story. This is the last chapter, and I'm actually feeling pretty emotional. This is the first multi-chaptered fanfic I've ever completed, so it's a pretty big deal for me. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers, and without further ado, here's the final chapter of Asclepius.**

After a deep breath in, Hermione knocked on the door to the Burrow. The wind was whipping around her, blowing her hair and dress about. Gooseflesh rose all over her, and she crossed her arms over her chest and began bouncing on her toes, trying to keep warm.

Some moments passed until the door was finally cracked open. She could see Harry's green eyes behind his glasses peering through the small slit between the door and the frame.

'Who are you?' asked Harry.

'Hermione Granger,' she rolled her eyes at her friend.

'What birds did you send shooting at Ron in sixth year?'

'Security questions Harry? The war ended years ago,' Hermione snapped. 'But if you insist, canaries. And I'll conjure up bigger ones to peck the flesh from your body if you don't bloody let me in. I'm frozen!'

She saw Harry blanch slightly at her threat, but the door was opened fully not a moment later. Molly, Arthur, George, Ron, Fleur, and Ginny were all seated around the fire. Bill and Charlie were in the kitchen, picking at what looked like the remains of her wedding cake.

'Hermione!' Ron came running towards her and grabbed her up in a hug. 'Where the bloody hell have you been?'

Acutely aware of Molly's hard stare and the wand held tightly in Ginny's hand, Hermione smiled weakly and said 'd'you think there's somewhere a bit more…private?'

'Oh,' Ron looked back at his family and turned slightly pink. 'Is the garden alright?'

'Perfectly fine,' answered Hermione, who quickly Summoned a sweater from her bag upstairs and pulled it over her head. 'Let's go.'

Ignoring the looks she was receiving from the rest of the family, she marched outside with her chin held high. She could hear Ron trailing behind her, and only when the back door was shut did she turn to face him.

'We need to talk,' she said, setting herself down on one of the stone benches.

'I'm not that thick Hermione,' answered Ron, sitting next to her. 'I know something has been bothering you these past weeks. I just didn't ask. I figured you'd say something at some point, but…I guess not,' he laughed somewhat bitterly. 'And then you Apparated out of our bloody wedding ceremony. So what is it? Me? You? Another bloke?'

She must have given something away, a twitch or a grimace, because Ron laughed once more and rubbed his eyes with his hands.

'You couldn't have told me _before _I was in these bloody dress robes?'

She was silent for a moment before she laughed as well, her shoulders shaking.

'I don't want to hurt you Ron. I never did. Looks like I managed to do it anyway though, haven't I?'

'A bit, yea,' he rubbed the back of his neck. 'But I can't lie to you, I almost felt…relieved when you left. Something went wrong for us and getting married…well, it would have made things worse.'

'Oh Ron,' she muttered. 'Will you ever forgive me?'

He smiled slightly and wrapped his arm around her.

'Give me some time. But it'll all work out in the end, Hermione. I'll owl you next week or something, yea?'

'Of course Ron,' she leaned into him slightly. 'And I'm sorry, I really am. I should have been honest with you in the first place.'

'It'll be water under the bridge soon enough,' he rose from the bench and offered her his hand. 'But I'd suggest you Apparate from here. Mum isn't too happy at the moment.'

'Understandable. I'll send along money, for her to pay off all the wedding costs.'

'That's quite a load of Galleons.'

'Well, I'll have to convert my Muggle funds, but after that it's not a problem,' Hermione rose and embraced him tightly. 'Have a pint or several on me, alright?'

'Take care of yourself Hermione,' Ron answered, stepping away. 'I'll let Harry know what's gone on.'

'Thank you Ron,' she smiled, and then turned with the wind and was gone.

He heard the crack from her Apparition, and marked the page of the book he was reading it, setting it onto the table next to his armchair. This time around she skipped knocking, and instead just walked in the door. He caught sight of her feet before her dress fell back over them and grimaced. Only Hermione would walk around for hours barefoot. The chit had probably forgotten all about her lack of footwear.

'That was marginally shorter than I was expecting,' he said, rising to greet her. 'Did you hex him?'

'No,' she rolled her eyes with a smile 'he was surprisingly understanding.'

'Then I take it my name wasn't mentioned.'

'No. I didn't think it particularly wise.'

'You thought correctly,' he replied softly. 'You're shivering.'

'Oh, yes,' Hermione answered 'I suppose I am.'

'Sit by the fire,' he ordered. 'I'll make tea.'

In the kitchen he pulled the leaves out of the cupboard, before Summoning a small bottle of Pepper Up. Knowing Granger, she'd probably manage to contract pneumonia and die in the time it took him to brew tea, so he sent the potion out into the other room.

'Thank you,' she called out.

He was so focused on the kettle that he didn't hear Hermione get up and cross the other room. He turned to retrieve the biscuits and was instead confronted with the sight of Hermione, nude save the jumper she'd worn in. His mouth went dry at the sight of her legs, long and smooth and enticingly bare. The jumper just brushed the tops of her thighs, the sleeves long and past her hands.

'I- made the…I have tea,' he croaked and then scowled. Good gods, it had been years since he'd seen a woman this close to naked but he'd have thought he was old enough not to stutter like a twelve year old and forget what he wanted to say. Her cheeks were turning red, and he realized she was just as embarrassed standing there as he was in what he'd said. She didn't have the upper hand here. He could work with that

'Are you trying to seduce me?'

'Is it working?' she answered.

He didn't answer right away and she turned from him, her shoulders hunched. He crossed the room and gathered her hair in his hand, twisting it up and away from her neck. Her breath hitched and he nearly smiled at the response.

'To answer your question,' he muttered, bending slightly to press a kiss against the back of her neck 'yes.'

He slid his hands down to her waist and pulled her tight against him, the heat from her back radiating onto his own body. Severus opened his mouth and pressed wet, hot kisses along the curve of her neck and shoulder, his tongue tracing random patterns. Her skin tasted of rainwater and cold hair and as her breaths turned to whimpers of pleasure, he grew hard against her.

He paused, breathing in her scent deeply, and she rocked back against him, dropping her head onto his chest.

'I think you've turned my seduction around on me,' she laughed breathlessly, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. 'Not that I'm complaining.'

She went up on her toes and kissed him softly, sliding her hands into his hair and pulling him down towards her. His tongue slid into her mouth, deepening the kiss and he pushed her back against the wall. She arched against him, sliding her hand down his back, scratching as she went. His hands were on the bottom of her jumper one second, and the next his left was sliding up and around to caress the soft expanse of her back.

His palm was cool against her inflamed skin, and she moaned into his mouth, extracting her hands from his hair to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Severus ground his hips into her, only the material of his trousers and the cotton of her knickers separating them.

She felt as if she was going to die from the power of his arousal, all of it directed solely towards her. By the time his shirt was open, laying bare his chest, he'd moved from her mouth to her shoulder, his teeth and lips bruising the skin he took into his mouth, marking her with his passion.

She slid her fingers through the soft hair on his chest and laid her hands flat against the flushed skin of his chest. Hermione pulled the shirt off his shoulders, and he shrugged out of it without removing his mouth from her body.

'Severus,' she gasped, eyes half lidded with pleasure "Severus, is there…'

She didn't bother to finish, since he seemed to have gotten the message. In a matter of seconds, she was crushed against his chest as he Apparated them upstairs. He kicked the door to his bedroom shut, and walked forward, pushing her along.

Hermione's knees hit the edge of the bed and she fell back, pulling Severus down with her. He grabbed the bottom of her jumper and pulled it over her head swiftly. He paused and rose above her, his eyes fixated on her now bare breasts. She squirmed somewhat uncomfortably under his gaze, but he pulled her arms up over her head and pinned them with his wrist.

'You are beautiful Hermione,' he whispered, the low rumbling purr of his voice caressing her gently. He lowered his head until his mouth was over her, his tongue teasing the bud that had tightened under his ministrations. He moved his hand to cover the other breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers, causing her to writhe and moan beneath him.

Her fingers were scratching at his scalp, pulling his head in closer to her body. He flicked his tongue swiftly against her once more before pulling away.

'Hermione, I cannot…'

'I know,' she answered, and reached for her wand. She Vanished their clothes, and when Severus's body came down onto her own, all slick skin and warmth and _him _she gasped, drawing him closer to her.

His fingers dipped between her thighs and he hissed quietly at what he found. That she could be so ready and willing for _him _boggled his mind. Beneath him, he felt her adjust her arm, and then her fingers were wrapped around him, tight enough to make him nearly cross eyed with lust.

'Severus,' she said, her cheeks flushed a glorious red. 'Severus, please.'

And then she guided him in.

He threw his head back with a groan as she moved her hips up to meet him. She was so _tight_ and perfect and…and _his. _Snape looked down at the woman underneath him, her eyes closed, and he moved within her, coaxing a small moan from her.

Hermione's hands tightened around his forearms as he thrusted again and again. He was quite a bit bigger than Ron, and though the first few thrusts had been a bit uncomfortable, it was now pushing her to higher heights. He filled her completely, each withdrawal leaving her feeling empty, and the re-entry filling her even more than the last.

Severus was beautiful above her, his teeth gritted and sweat glittering on his arms and chest. She leaned up and latched onto the unscarred side of his neck, sucking his skin into her mouth and nibbling at it gently. His eyes flew open, and he reached down between them and began circling his thumb around the sensitive bundle of nerves just above their joining. She cried out and fell back onto the pillows, as the pleasure built. The world swirled around her, colours and sounds all melting together and she had no anchor save for Severus above her.

She came apart at the seams, gasping his name over and over as her orgasm took her, moans and whimpers permeating the otherwise silent air.

Severus continued through her orgasm, and only when she lay sated beneath him did he allow himself release, a hoarse shout signalling his completion. She smiled up at him and tucked a strand of hair behind his ears.

'It doesn't feel real,' she said quietly 'that I'm here with you, that you feel the way I do.'

He rolled off of her and onto his back. She curled into him, and he wrapped his arm around her, dropping a kiss onto her head.

'A man would be a fool not to love you, Hermione,' he said. 'And I've never been called a fool.'

She laughed, a beautiful sound, and closed her eyes, her finger tracing shapes on his chest.

'Where do we go from here?'

'To sleep,' he mumbled, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling periodically.

'If I'd known all it took was a good shag to get you to sleep I'd have tried it years ago,' she muttered.

One of his eyes snapped open and he genuinely laughed, a great rumbling sound that was far too sexy for her own good.

'Normally, I'd thank Merlin for that shag, but it appears it was Asclepius this time around,' he said with a small smirk. 'The God of Healing, indeed.'

Hermione rolled her eyes with a smile and pulled the blankets up over them, then yawned.

'Tired already Miss Granger?" Snape asked and then said under his breath 'and I'm supposedly the old one.'

'Well old man, get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.'

'Doing what, pray tell?'

'You may have withdrawn from the case study, but you never had your final physical,' she smirked at the look on his face, and ran her hand up his chest. 'I think I'll have to give you a full body examine.'

Severus turned on his side and pulled her into him, his arm thrown over her somewhat protectively.

'In that case, you'll need to catch up on sleep as well.'

'Good night, Severus,' she murmured gently. 'I…well, I'd like to say I love you but I'm afraid that's taking it a bit fast.'

'We've spent three years dancing around each other Hermione,' he replied. We can take it as fast as we damn well please.'

She giggled, and snuggled further into his embrace.

'In that case, I love you Severus. I really do.'

'I return the sentiment, Hermione,' he said softly. 'Sleep well, my love.'

And, for the first time in years, a contented silence fell through the house.

**A/N: Round 2.**

**Well, I hope the ending was satisfactory. Leave a review please, and thanks for sticking with me :)**


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